


Training

by marzichan



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: AU, M/M, Mind Control, Superstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzichan/pseuds/marzichan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vriska decides Jake needs a little hands-on training with a real hero. Superstuck AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training

**Author's Note:**

> Superstuck is a Homestuck AU based in a world where supervillains and superheroes are a common sight. In this AU, Jake is both a supervillain called General Terror and the son of the infamous Lord English. You can find out more by visiting [this page.](http://generalterror.tumblr.com/faq) This story was originally posted [here](http://generalterror.tumblr.com/post/13539389985/ah-what-a-beautiful-day-you-do-enjoy-a-nice-walk) on Tumblr.

Ah, what a beautiful day. You do enjoy a nice walk through the park, especially when you’re being _evil_. You walk down the paved path with a large death-ray casually propped against your shoulder. That’s right, folks, nothing to see here! Just a terrifying evil general and his doomsday device. Going for a walk. Yup.

Of course, you shouldn’t have expected your peace to last. One moment you’re just strolling through the park, the next someone grabs you roughly and shoves you up against the nearest tree. You drop your ray gun in surprise, the weapon clattering harmlessly on the nearby grass. You splutter a few breathless protests before it really registers just who is now holding you captive: The Tailorbird.

There’s an odd smile on his face, a confident little quirk of his lips that doesn’t quite seem to belong. He’s usually much more poker-faced than this.

“What are you going to do now, General Terror?” He taunts you, using your for full title for once. Normally he just calls you ‘GT’ or ‘English’, the latter of which frankly annoys you since he always says it with such disdain. Your surprise must have shown, because he pauses and then that smug smile disappears into a grimace.

“Wow, it’s SO easy to throw you off your game, huh?” You can practically hear him rolling his eyes, although the words don’t sit well on his lips. He can be snarky, sure, but never this much of a… well, _bitch._

You scowl back, putting on the fiercest expression you can muster. “I’m not off my game! I’m nothing of the sort! I’m, um, plotting your demise right now!!” If your eyes could shoot laser beams, you would totally fry his pompous orange ass and prove how evil you are. But alas. “Release me at once, Tailorbird, or you will regret it!”

“Ha, yeah, okay, that threat isn’t going to fly, dork-brain.” He snorts, ignoring your outraged exclamation at being called ‘dork-brain’. “You really need to improve on your material. How the hell do you expect to ever intimidate anyone when you use such vague uninspiring language? Try getting a little more specific. Tell me you’ll tear out my guts and wear them as a hat. Tell me you’ll drop me into a pool of acid and watch me melt bit by bit. Jesus, at least give the hero _something_ to work with!”

This new turn in the conversation confuses you. Wait, what? Why is Strider of all people giving you a lecture on villainous threats? Then something about the way he’s regarding you—he’s released the front of your shirt by this point—clicks and makes sense. After all, the real Strider would never stand there with one hand resting against his hip in such a sassy manner.

“Vriska?” You gape at the hero before you, astonished and yet also just a smidge gleeful that you saw through her tricks. “You’re controlling The Tailorbird’s mind?”

“You bet!” He—she?—flashes you another smug grin. “It wasn’t that hard. I figured I would give you some live practice as the next step up in your lessons. A training dummy is no good and a REAL hero would just kick your ass, so I decided to borrow your rival’s body instead.”

Although the accusation that your buttocks would be thoroughly stomped by a ‘real’ hero stings, you let it go in favor of pointing out the very exciting obvious. “But you have total control of his body, yes? Why waste it on schooling me? We could make him do anything!” You grin, your green eyes alight with eagerness to pay Strider back some of the humiliation he’s dealt you in the past.

He watches you as you gesture enthusiastically, his head tilted slightly to one side as if he’s thinking your proposition over. But then he smirks, and something about the expression tells you that Vriska wasn’t really listening to what you had to say at all.

“You know,” he begins, his voice lowered as if he’s imparting a grave secret upon you, “he thinks you’re cute when you get all worked up like this.”

“What?” The abrupt change in topic totally derails your train of thought. Your brow furrows in confusion. What the devilfucking dickens is Vriska talking about?

“The Tailorbird. I may be in control, hehe, but it’s not like his mind is dead or anything. He’s still aware of what’s going on.” That smirk widens, and suddenly you feel flustered. You instinctively take a step backward, but you come up hard against the tree. Whoops. No escape.

“H-he is?”

“Mhmmmm.” He edges closer, his gloved fingers reaching out to trace an idle trail across your collarbone. You shiver, despite the fact that you don’t really want him—her?—touching you. Not like this. Sure, you’ve fantasized about Vriska coming onto you before, but with The Tailorbird involved it’s just… weird.

“You know what he wants to do every time you get all hot and bothered and huffy at him?” He says the words like you really don’t want to know the answer. And you don’t! But you find yourself asking anyway, licking your lips nervously before you say the words.

“No, what?”

He chuckles, leaning in even closer than before. You can feel his breath against your ear. “Well, Jakey-boy, he wants to give you a big fat ol’ kiiiiiiiiss.”

Your eyes widen, but before you can truly react he grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. He kisses you then, swift and hard, his lips pressed firmly against your own. You try to pull away, gasping in shock, but he only uses your futile attempts to abscond as a chance to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You feel dizzy, but he doesn’t relent, doesn’t let you go, and soon you melt in his grip. It must be due to a lack of sufficient oxygen levels in your brain, because only madness would make you willing to go along with this! He continues to kiss you, and you continue to let him, shifting closer as his hands drop from your jaw and wrap around you instead.

You kiss him, entirely unaware of the fact that Vriska released her control of The Tailorbird’s mind as soon as she initiated the kiss.

Somewhere else, miles away, the Anarchy Goddess laughs.


End file.
